One Stupid Person
by animeoh
Summary: "And then your life isn't your own anymore."


**My First Oneshot, For the TR Contest! Just to get some things straight before the story:**

**AU Story, takes place in New York**

**Alcohol is still only over eighteen**

**Alot of the characters are OOC**

_**Mare**_** (****稀****) is pronounced **_**Ma-ray**_

**Disclaimer: I do not own Gakuen Alice.**

**One Stupid Person**

**Part I: The Ringleader**

The blonde nineteen-year-old pulled a cigarette stump out of his mouth, flicking it onto the ground in front of one of his many bodyguards. he pulled out a pack of new Marlboros and, after discarding the plastic (onto the ground, of course), he put a new one in his mouth. He pulled out a gold lighter from one of the many pockets in his leather jackets, and lit the end with a pink flame. As he took a whiff, his eyes narrowed and a grin spread on his pale face, mischief in his blue eyes. "Sakura," He said, a familiar greeting to the female in front of him.

She closed her mirror, sticking it into the pocket of her tight leather pants, who dared not squeak as she walked. Her face was almost as pale as his; her eyes were a deep hazel, but were no less sharper than if they had been just pits. They were framed with heavy black eyeliner. Her lips were a natural deep red, fixed into a straight line. Her high ponytail swished from left to right as she walked, barely brushing against her thin long-sleeve black shirt. Everything she wore clung to her body, but she gave no hint to indicate she was cold. She stopped an exact two meters away from him, no difference in her expression, as she replied, "Ruka."

He gave her an evil grin, she gave him an emotionless facade, but either way, you couldn't tell what they were thinking. And there, in the falling snow, both black figures looked as out of place as streams in a desert. She spoke again. "I told you to call me by my stage name." There it was; her perfect sense of speech - no _I thought _at the beginning of a sentence. She just knew, and she just expected.

Ruka nodded, chuckling. "That's right. I forgot - sorry, _Mare-Chan_." He pulled an envelope from his pocket and tossed it to her. She barely raised a hand and caught it, opened it, and read it - all in one swift movement. "Tonight," She said, reading from the emerald-green paper inside. "A meeting between Harlem Champion _Mare_ and Compton Champion _Neko_. Ruka Ring."

She read over details at the bottom of the page while Ruka took the chance to step next to her, putting an arm around her shoulder. He leaned over and kissed her cheek; it was a small light peck, and she didn't react at all. He knew she was aware of his affection of her, but neither was willing to act upon anything. Both of them had discarded _that emotion_ long ago. And, for them. it was too late to get it back. She put the envelope in her pocket and gave Ruka a barely-noticeable nod, before turning around and walking out of the quiet alley. "See you tonight."

Ruka nodded back, smiling at her receding figure. "She's a noticeable one, isn't she?" He said to one of his bodyguards, who didn't reply. Well, it wasn't as if Ruka expected them to, anyway. So, instead of waiting for an answer, he turned around and twirled a bundle of keys around his finger while walking in the other direction. "Well," He said to himself, grinning that evil grin again. "I guess that it's time to go give the other invitations out, to the rich and them," And with that, he put up his hood and walked out.

** X**

**Part II: The Champion**

She was used to life in Harlem. There was nothing to get used to, actually. If you grew up there, then you knew all the rules. You were born in, you never got out. You got in, you never got out. You were forced in, you never got out. Plain and simple. Her world was in its own little bubble, except her bubble was one that could be popped at any moment; the second she left, the second she stepped out of the boundaries of her home court, she'd earn a bullet to the head. At best.

Mare opened the door to her three-room apartment and stepped in, closing and locking the door behind her. The room smelled like smoke - Ruka had been here, who knows for how long. There was a kitchen to the right, complete with a bar and mismatched barstools. On the left in the living room was a blanket folded on the ground next to a long couch, and in front of the whole thing was a huge T.V. and a table with two chairs. There was a beer on the table, along with a deck of cards. She took off her shirt and, throwing it onto the couch, sat in the chair and began to sip the beer.

Now that she was in only a tank top, you could see the tattoo on her left shoulder. It was a label. If you could read past the deep cut marks going through it, it read _Property of United States - Convict Level A_. She could remember the memory from that tattoo perfectly, even though it was almost six whole years ago. She could remember it. As if it was yesterday.

'_I don't want it. I don't want it anymore; I never wanted it,' A teenager scratched at her tattoo furiously, a blond boy trying to stop her. 'I'm sorry, Sakura, I can't do anything,' he consoled, before she took something from his hands. She slid it over her arm, biting her tongue to keep from crying out of pain. Wet roses bloomed from the cuts in her arm, and he didn't stop her. He only wiped the blood onto his shirt and hugged her, apologizing over and over again._

She opened her eyes, not realizing she'd fallen asleep, and finished the last of her beer. She left the glass on the table and instead took the deck of cards, putting it into the same pocket as the envelope. Her iPhone rang, and she put it on speaker and threw it on the couch. Then she walked to a door in the living room, the closet, just as voice began to speak. _"Yo, Mare,"_ It was Ruka. _"I forgot to tell you. The Ruka Ring - it's in the basement of the W Hotel. I need you to wear a party dress to get inside. Its in your closet. I hope you like it."_ The call ended.

Mare pulled said dress from her closet, looking it over. It was a black, leather thin-strapped dress that barely skimmed her thighs. There were no accessories to it except a zipper that came down the front, all the way down. Also on the hanger she found black leggings and, on the ground, knee-high boots. She slipped all three accessories on, before turning to find one more accessory on her sink. _"Hope you like it :P_" was all Ruka had written on the emerald paper next to the black wig. As she secured it onto her head, she found it barely went past her ears, which completed the look of a popular stripper she'd met on her last trip to Vegas. Great. She was cosplaying as a stripper.

She just shrugged and, pulling on a jacket identical to Ruka's, she stepped out and began to walk to the open streets, where she would hail a taxi and where Sakura Mikan would have her _meeting_ with this person. With this mysterious _Neko_ person.

** X**

**Part III: The Stranger**

"A beer," She said right away to the bartender, who gave Mare a weird look before making her order. It must've been weird for a girl to order a beer at a hotel but hey, this was New York. Crap like this happened all the time. He slid it across the counter and she scooped it up and gulped it down, the movement full of experience. Someone slid in next to her and ordered the same thing just as she ordered another beer. When they got their orders, he put something in his drink and began to mix it. She leaned over, not caring about how she looked, and smelled it. She scrunched up her nose. "Coke?"

She turned to him and finally got a good look at the boy. He was almost her age - she was just over nineteen, he looked like he was closer to twenty. He was wearing black, too, and had hair just past his ears - long for a boy, but not long enough to hide a ruby earring on his left ears. His skin was paler than Ruka's. He shook his head. "Its just sugar." He had a deep, emotionless voice. She pulled her head out of the way as he lifted the mug up to his lips. "One - no, two more, please," He said, eyeing Mare's empty glass. She nodded once in thanks, and he nodded once to reply. Both downed two more refills before he put his mug down.

He checked the time on his watch - and a fancy watch at that - and yawned. "I've got an hour." He was prompting her for conversation, but wasn't willing to start. She wasn't the starter type, but was interested in this person anyway.

"Me too." She unzipped her jacket and sighed as the nice, cool air hit her. It was hot in the hotel, too. She pulled out a box of Djarum Blacks and offered him one. "Want a smoke?" He took one from her, lighting both of theirs with his Zippo and taking a good, long breath. They exhaled at the same time. "Damn. I thought I'd be able to stop," She muttered angrily, before putting it back in her mouth.

"You'll never be able to," The boy said, turning around and staring at the groups of people in front of him. She rolled her eyes and mentally thanked him for his support before closing her eyes. She breathed in and out a few times, trying to get the taste of sweet smoke out of her mouth, before realizing it was futile and sucking it in again. She turned around too, not really to watch what was going on, but to observe him further.

He was quiet, but in the way that would make you comfortable. He didn't make any unnecessary movements, keeping his hand on the counter for minimal usage, and kept his lazy eyes trained on the crowd. _That_ was it - his eyes. She was staring at those crimson eyes of his, the lights dancing in them. They were dark, yet bright; sharp, yet soft. They were the kind of eyes that would show everything and nothing at the same time; the kind in which you could only see what he wanted you to see. She loved his eyes, so completely different from her dull, hazel ones.

"Another one," She said to the bartender, who set one down immediately. "You were ready," She said to him, and he beamed and nodded before walking away. She took the mug from behind and took an unladylike swig.

The guy reached for the mug and snatched it from her, mumbling she had too much to drink, before downing the rest of it. They burped at the same time, gave each other a weird look, then laughed at the same time. "Are you always like this?" He asked her, gesturing to her clothes, her manner, maybe her burp...she didn't know.

"No, I'm usually more calm. Collected. Quiet. Unapproachable, too, I guess. More like you. ANd what are you like? Usually a heavy-drinker-slash-chain-smoker-type guy?"

He gave a snort. "Not usually...but a lot of times, I just smoke. It's better than having to drive to bar. Its always in my pocket." He was halfway through his cig already. "Is that your real hair?" He asked suddenly, and she choked on her smoke. He hesitantly rubbed her back as she regained her pride. She straightened up again.

"Y...No. No, this is just a wig." She replied, changing her thought midway. _Why did I do that?_ She mentally stabbed herself. _Why did I tell some RANDOM GUY about my wig?_ "Are those your real eyes?"

He raised an eyebrow, but then replied, "Yeah. Are they weird? I get that a lot." He raised a hand to his face, but she beat him there.

She place her hand on the side of his face, her palm pushing up his bangs, her thumb next to the corner of his left eye. "No," She whispered, leaning close to him unconsciously. His eyes remained calm as he let his hand rest on her wrist. Neither of them moved for a second, before she realized what she was doing and sat back. "This was exactly what I wanted," She said, after they exchanged a long yet comfortable silence. "To one day find a friend over a beer." She chuckled sarcastically.

"Hn," His eyes turned to her lazily. "So that's what it was." Both were too old too blush, and too drunk to really understand and filter what they were thinking. But neither of them were too stupid to realize what they felt for one another, _and_ neither of them decided to act on said feelings. It was probably a fluke, anyway. The words, so shunned, felt horrible on her tongue. So weird, so foreign. Friendship was never a real thing, anyway. It was always a feeling that would fade with time. Because everything faded with time. "Its the first time I've heard that," He surprised her.

She turned to him as he was getting up. She opened her mouth to say something, but was silenced by his mouth on hers. "Hope to see you again, babe." He said, pulling back. He paid both of their bills and went off with a smirk on his arrogant face.

She checked the time and left the bar half an hour later. She stepped to the door where one of Ruka's bodyguards made way for her. When the door closed behind her, she found herself in an elevator going underground. She breathed out, preparing herself for what was about to happen. Now was the time to flush all of that pink fluffiness - _it's just the alcohol,_ she told herself - out of her system. She took a deep breath and ran through the earlier events of the day in her head.

_"This is the last one Sakura," Ruka said, whispering in her hair. He hugged her closer to his chest as he continued. "This is our big break. If we make this - we can erase everything. We can start over. Go to Japan, wipe our slates...and fall in love." He stepped back. "You just need to win one more time." _

_ Mare nodded, showing a small curve of the lips as her excitement, and watched as he shut the door behind him. "One more," She said, hugging her sides. "Just one more," She repeated._

"One more time," She breathed, before the elevator dinged open and she was hit by a wall of noise. She didn't change her facial expression and walked her perfect walk down the one pathway between the bleachers. She walked past the cheering and screaming crowds, stepping into a brightly lit concrete pit. Here she was - The Arena.

** X**

**Part IV: The Inability**

"Welcome, watchers, to the Ruka Ring!" The regular announcer for all _meetings_' voice boomed across the enormous room, silencing all the three million other voices. "We're all here for one thing - to see the champion of the US Sector!" The crowd cheered animatedly in response, but quieted down to whispers again in anticipation. "On the right side, who's just entered the arena, is the Harlem Champion, with a streak of seventy-four wins, we have the beautiful but deadly _Mare_!" Hoots, jeers, and even solid objects were thrown into the ring. "And on the left side, who's also just entered, is the Compton Champion, who rose up out of nowhere and beat the former champion directly, the mysterious and alluring _Neko!_" His voice echoed.

No jeers or hoots. No objects. Just stares and whispers, and then finally a wave of noise and a battle cry. "Beatdown! Beat-down! Beat-down!" Louder than the crowd for the superbowl, and more deafening than a round of thunder; but to the two competitors, so silent they could not hear a thing. All they knew was the person before them. All they knew was that they had shared a drink with a random stranger, who happened to be here for the same reason. All they knew was that God, or Karma, or Fate, whatever it was, had a cruel sense of humor. Two strangers turned friends - just friends, and nothing more - had shared a drink before a deathmatch.

Both stared at each other, cool expressions on their faces, but raging emotions in their eyes. She clenched her fists. Those _eyes_. How she _hated_ those damned eyes of his. She almost - _almost_ - forgot to do her signature pre-match show. Letting out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, she unzipped the front of her dress and let it fall to the floor, forgotten. She slipped out of her leggings twice as fast, and kicked both garments to the side. His eyes roamed over her; not just his, but every person in the crowd's eyes stared at her costume - a cloth tied around her chest, holding it in place, and extremely short ripped shorts with a huge belt.

She pulled on fingerless gloves before pulling out a deck of cards from her pocket - the same ones she had picked up from her table. He pulled out a piece of gum - or that's at least what she thought it was - and popped it into his mouth, before lighting another cigarette. She could hear girls swooning over his mysterious aura, and could feel guys drinking in her alluring figure. In a few more seconds, the glass half-sphere dropped down on them, and the countdown began. "10..."

_Nine. _She thought about how she could say anything in here, and no one else but him would hear it. _Eight._ She was close to her goal, close to leaving this trash-dump she'd called home for the last six and a half years. _Seven._ She had to do this for Ruka; She had to do this for herself. _Six._ She'd worked too hard for this to back down now; she'd gotten too deep to back out now. _Five._ But he was here for his reasons, too. And he wasn't nervous at all. Why was he here? _Four. _He probably had someone to save, too; he wouldn't be here for any other reason. _Three. _What was she going to do? She couldn't lose; but this was a deathmatch. One of them had to die. _Two._ There were only two choices. Her and Ruka, or him and whoever he was trying to save. Godammit, she didn't even know the bastard's name. Curse all that is pure in this world. _One._ Would you rather save the one you love, or the one who loves you? _Zero._

Metal screeched against metal, and the competition began. On reflex, Mare instantly shot out two cards, aimed at his face. He dodged one and barely dodged the other, receiving a cut on his face from the sharp edge. They could hear the crowd's faint roar through the glass, so loud outside of the clear dome. "So you're the famous Mare," He said, stepping back to dodge another one of her cards. "Didn't think you'd be this beautiful." She didn't reply, only jumped forward to land a dropkick on his arm. "But I guess that's what killed the others, huh?"

She hesitated for a second. Something in his eyes, the ones she was fixated on every time she saw him, changed and hardened completely. He was disgusted, no, he was angry about something. What was it? But that hesitation was the perfect time for him to push her back, sending her flying across the field. She barely managed to skid to a stop instead of crashing into the glass. Her head jerked up at his seething voice. "You dirtied your hands...a lot." He came flying at her, pulling his cigarette out of his mouth. He blew the air in front of him and jumped back before throwing the cigarette into the cloud of weird-smelling breath.

She jumped to the side to avoid being burned by the sudden burst of flame, and she felt the oxygen level drop a little lower. He pointed to his gum. "Kerosene-soaked gum," He said, explaining the whole thing. She ran at him, pulling her legs close to knee him in the stomach, but when she was about to strike him, she hesitated again.

Something in her was slowing everything else down. What the hell was going on? Wasn't she able to kill every other opponent in six hits or less? She was breaking. At the point when it mattered, she was breaking, she was cracking, she was coming crashing to the ground. She jumped back and started to attack wildly, bouncing off the walls to knock him off his feet. Her sanity was in shreds. She'd been losing it for a while now. But she had to keep going on for Ruka, who loved her even though he knew he wouldn't get anything in return. Sweet, sweet, Ruka, who had changed completely from how he was when they were still safe.

"It was all because of him," She said out loud, temporarily confusing Neko. He slowed for a second, receiving the full shock of her roundhouse kick. "Because that stupid guy...he knew we needed the money! He knew and he still..." She covered her mouth, realizing she was speaking out loud.

A voice echoed around the room. "Ten minutes remaining."

She cursed, stepping back, trying to clear her mind, that had never found it hard to kill before. She was breathing heavily. Exchanging blows with someone like him was completely different from anything she'd ever faced before. It was like every time she struck him, she struck herself twice as hard. She dropped her deck on the floor. Cards spilled everywhere. She could barely breathe now, and stood up to face the soot-covered figure in front of her. The crowd whispered in confusion. Why was she stopping now?

"Neko," She said, claiming his complete and utter attention. "I can not kill you." His expression changed, for the first time, and he furrowed his eyebrows. "I can't kill you," She repeated, and said the words she'd feared, the words that she thought she _knew_ she'd never hear again.

But then came what no one was expecting-

** X**

**Part V: The Sister**

Ruka and all of the other fighter's family members were supposed to stay in one lounge. He knew who he'd be staying with - it was a girl named Hotaru, whose brother was the opponent, Neko. It would be just him, her, and his bodyguards in the lounge.

She was also nineteen, with curly black hair down to her waist and dark purple eyes. She was wearing a dress that started a few inches below her shoulders, covering only half of her chest, and ended barely below her butt. However, _just_ to ruin her sexy image, she had a Pocky stick in her mouth throughout the fight. She had one when she walked in; one whan she sat down; and even _three _when she came back from the bathroom.

Being bored, Ruka, while waiting for the fight to start, had tried to talk to her. Then he tried to make her angry. And then he tried to make her laugh. All attempts failed, however, and he sat back down.

But he had noticed her strange obsession with Pocky sticks – in the first three minutes they'd been together, she'd managed to finish four and a half boxes of the stuff. She seemed to be eating them absentmindedly, seemed to be doing everything absentmindedly, just staring off into space. But then he heard the announcer's voice echo around the arena.

When it started, he watched the fight in silence. He was watching every move, and noticed something off about Mare immediately. She was too jerky, too hesitant. And just when he thought she'd win, she'd _finally win_... she'd mouthed something that no one else in the stadium would understand, because she'd mouthed it in Japanese. _Aishiteru._ And then something in him snapped too, something that had been eating away at him for six and a half years.

"You...you love him?" Ruka whispered through the glass window, even though he knew she couldn't hear him. "You fell in love with the guy you're fighting?" He slammed his fist into the wall, startling everyone in the room. "That's so cliche! I could call that, like I was watching a movie!" He slammed his fist into it again.

Hotaru watched him. Not out of anger, or jealousy, or even annoyance. She watched him for the sake of making sure he didn't do anything stupid to himself. Because there were two men in her life now, and even though she would never admit it, she was going to save the one she knew she'd be able to. As the room got quiet, she alone bit down on another Pocky stick, breaking the chocolate part off with a deafening _snap!_

Ruka turned around suddenly, eyes blinded by hatred. "Why are you looking at me like that? Are you watching me out of pity? Am I pitiful to you?" He strode over to her quickly, lifting her chin to look up at him. "Am I?" His voice was steely, but she'd never been fooled by fake feelings before, and she wasn't going to start now. Another Pocky stick made its way down her throat. He leaned down suddenly and kissed her, pressing his hot lips against her cool ones, not even caring if the bodyguards were watching. When she didn't fight back, he pulled back and stared at her. His hand stayed on her left cheek. "Do you love me, Hotaru?"

She sighed. "Yes, Ruka."

His eyes lit up a little bit, and he sat down next to her. "Do you really love me?" She nodded. "Would you do anything for me?" She nodded again, and swallowed another chocolaty stick. "What a strange obsession," Ruka wondered out loud.

Hotaru blushed furiously and turned the other way at lightning speed, managing to slide off the side of the couch in the process. She fell on her butt, her Pocky sticks flying all over the floor. She covered her face with her hair. Ruka covered his mouth quickly, trying to help her up without laughing.

But then outside, she saw the glass dome shimmer, and saw a flash of black where her brother's hair caught the light of fire. There was silence for a moment, until there was a huge blast of hot air and the glass separating the VIP room and the Ring shattered. The bodyguards ran to shield them. Ruka, being the closest to the glass, was knocked unconscious by the blast and fell into Hotaru's arms. "We have to take him into his room. He's in shock," She said to the bodyguard, who nodded and locked the two of them in the hotel room in the corner.

Hotaru laid Ruka on the one bed in the room and strode to the wall-to-wall window. "Bring it around the back," She whispered into her earpiece, and sat on the bed. She pulled a stash of mini Pockys out of the front of her dress, swallowing three whole.

It was quiet and calm for a few moments, when suddenly an arm came from behind and pulled her onto the bed. "Hotaru," Ruka breathed onto her neck, "What..." He took a breath. "What happened?" He questioned her groggily, his head drooping onto her shoulder. "What - where's Sa - uh, where's Mare? Where is she?" He cupped her face, trying to clear his mind.

"She escaped," The purple-eyed girl replied, touching a hand to his wrist. "With nii-san. They escaped together. They're both fine." _They have to be fine._

Ruka's hand slid down to her collarbone, feeling her slow, easy breathing. his eyes drifted from her neck back to her face. "Good." He finally said, slipping a daring hand down to her neckline. Hotaru's grip tightened a bit, but she didn't stop him. "Hotaru," He whispered, pulling her hair to move her head back. "Hotaru, he repeated, kissing her neck, then resting his lips above her neckline. "Hotaru, what am I supposed to do? What do I do now?"

Hotaru didn't seem surprised at the question. She looked into his beautiful, shimmering, sea blue eyes and replied, "Come with me." Ruka's eyes widened and he pulled back, searching the face of the ever-serious girl before him. "Run away with me." She repeated. "And we'll go to England. You'll be safe. And I'll be there with you." She sincerely felt that this was the largest amount of words she'd ever said at once.

He didn't say anything for a minute, and then asked, "When?"

Relief flooded her face. "The car will be here at one a.m." Ruka checked the time before pinning her wrists to the bed. She questioned him with her eyes before he kissed her again. "Then that means we have twenty minutes." His lips lingered on hers for a few seconds before he pulled back. "Mmm…chocolate." He muttered.

"Wait, let me finish this first. It's the new flavor," Hotaru mumbled, another four in her mouth. Ruka watched her pull away from him in shock. Ruka, the most wanted womanizer in the whole industry of the Underground, beaten by a box of mini Pocky sticks. He shook his head and chuckled to himself, pulling a Marlboro from his pant pocket.

"Mm-mm," Hotaru knocked the cigarette out of his hand. "Stop smoking." It wasn't like a worrying girl to bad guy statement, or a worrying mom to a stupid son statement, either. It was like a pissed off master to her annoying dog. Ruka nodded furiously, following her orders. She shoved a mini strawberry stick in his mouth. "Eat this instead. Its better," She said, sitting on the bed next to him. He obeyed her in blissful silence.

** X**

**Part VI: The Understanding**

She woke up in a warm bed, surrounded by blankets and sheets. There was one enormous window to her right, where the night breeze cooled the room. The moon was glowing. She wondered how long it'd been since she'd last look up at the beautiful sphere. Bright, yet dark. Perfect, yet imperfect. It was too beautiful to be real - nothing in this world was that beautiful. It was merely a figment of all of their imaginations; a sliver of hope for the ugly, that they could be beautiful too. But she had accepted the truth.

She tried to sit up in the small room, but found she could move nothing except her right arm. She searched her brain for what happened. "Oh," She said out loud, finally recalling the incident, and she replayed it in her head.

_She dropped the cards, and opened her mouth to say what she wanted to say. She mouthed the first two syllables before she was knocked to the ground, and there was an enormous heat covering her whole body. She couldn't move, couldn't make a sound... she couldn't even wriggle in pain. And then they found her - his hands, his warm, large hands found her; and then she was being carried away, away from the fire, the booms, and the screaming; away from the pain, and the dead, and the audience, away from the eyes and the game. Away from the Ring. And then she passed out._

She hadn't noticed him before, but she noticed him now. He was right next to the bed, leaning against the wall behind hit, only a breath away from her. He was pretending to sleep, but she knew better. She kept her eyes trained on the ceiling, trying to clear her hazy vision. She peered her eyes into the distance, and found something that finally gave her a clue about her location. "Is that...is that the Eiffel Tower?" She asked, not really expecting an answer. She didn't get one, either. She realized he was the type who didn't like to answer stupid questions.

She quieted down again, just drowning herself in theories on how she got there. But it was real; she was free. Gone was Mare of the Ring, gone was the girl with no way to leave. Gone was the girl who would be forced to lay her life down for entertainment, to pay back something she hadn't taken in the first place. And she was comfortable in his presence, and he was comfortable in hers. And they sat and thought, in the same room together.

"I was in the Ring," He started, "Because my dad got into debt. They said if I entered the Ring and won the three million championship money, they'd wipe it clean. But it took too long - four years too long - and my dad left America. And I was stuck there with Hotaru, my sister. But in the middle of the fight, she found out about your situation, and how it was the same as ours...and we decided to take a risk and get the both of us out." He felt like he needed to say it - he'd felt like he had to for years, and it felt like the weight of the sky was lifted off his shoulders. And then he realized, he'd trusted someone for the first time. He'd trusted _her._

And she felt she owed it to him to tell him her story, too. A few moments later, she replied with her own reason. "I was Ruka's best friend. My mom took care of us together. But then she got sick - really sick, and we needed two and a half million dollars for the surgery. A guy showed up to the hospital one day and told us that if me and Ruka went in, we'd make the money. Ruka was too weak, so he became a Ringleader and I became a Fighter. But, a year ago, my mom died in her sleep. And then, that guy disappeared from our lives. But I was stuck in the Ring until I won. I was stuck in the Ring for six years. And to make sure I didn't run away, they branded me on my shoulder." They both got quiet, surprised at how similar their stories were.

Both didn't cry, or hesitate, or stop. It was too easy to break down, and neither of them was the type to do so. So they waited in each other's silence, for absolutely nothing.

When the moon was highest in the sky, he finally spoke again. "Why did you do it?" She turned to him as he repeated his question. "Why did you stop fighting?"

She stared at him for a second, the boy who was staring at shadows on the ceiling, and then turned her head to stare at them, too. She didn't answer his question, and he didn't push her for a reply. But then, she said, "Have you ever been in love?"

It was unexpected, yes, but all he did was turn his head slightly in her direction and nod once. She smirked. "Horrible, isn't it?" His blank expression was replaced with a confused one. "It makes you so...so _vulnerable._" She moved her hand so that it was now over her heart. "It opens your chest and it opens your heart and it means that _someone_ can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these walls, these defenses; you build up a whole damn suit of _armor_ so that nothing can hurt you." She squeezed the cloth over her collarbone, the smile on her face long gone.

"But then, one _stupid_ person, no different than any _other_ stupid person, wanders into your _stupid_ life..." She paused, letting her arm rest on her stomach. "And you give them a...a _piece_ of you, and they didn't even ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you, or smile at you, and..." She covered her mouth for a second, trying to cover her irregular breath as a tear slid down the side of her face. "_And then your life isn't your own anymore._"

She was going to sob, and she knew it, but she had to say this before she regretted letting every chance she had pass by in all her nineteen years. Her eyebrows furrowed as she glared at the ceiling. "But love...love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and gives you everything you wanted, and then it leaves you crying in the darkness, so that a simple phrase like 'maybe we should just be friends' turns into a shard...a damned glass _splinter_ working its way into your heart.

"It hurts," She choked herself for a moment, the streams on her face turning into rivers. He was staring right at her now, a pained expression on his face, as he continued to watch her speak but dared not interrupt. "It hurts like friggin' _hell._ And not just in my imagination." She was talking about herself now, not just about the world anymore. "Not just in my mind. Its a...a soul-hurt." She sobbed, finally, before covering her mouth and stifling back a quickly-arriving second one. "Its a get-inside-you-and-rip-you-apart pain." She covered her eyes, finally getting the last words out. "I friggin _hate_ love."

She raised a hand, leaving her palm open in the air. He grasped it, entangling her fingers with hers, and kissed her smooth yet calloused hand. "I know what you mean," He finally said after she had stopped crying. "I hate love too. But," He thought for a moment. "I would do anything for it. Because I'm addicted to it. It's like...love is like meth."

It was quiet for a second, before she burst out laughing. "That's it? I just poured my heart and soul out to you, and all you've got to say is, 'love is like meth'?" Natsume wallowed in embarrassment for a few seconds, feeling a random connection with his sister for a moment. She couldn't stop laughing, so much that even tears were coming out of her eyes. But maybe those weren't tears of laughter. Maybe, just maybe, he was right. Because even though she hated it, maybe love _was_ like meth.

"Thank you." He said to her, before looking back up at the ceiling. "I'm Natsume, by the way. Just thought you might like to know the name of the guy you fell in love with."

She smiled through her tears. "Thank _you,_ Natsume. And I'm Mikan." She grasped his hand tighter, and he did the same. And they went to sleep, in that exact position, because they knew tomorrow wasn't going to be as hard as yesterday. Tomorrow was just going to be...different.

** X**

**Part VII: The Beginning**

_Sixteen Months Later..._

"It says that the flight's arrived," The blonde chattered excitedly to his purple-eyed companion. She looked like she didn't care, but he knew she was just as excited as she was; probably even more. He could tell by the sheer number of Pocky sticks she'd eaten – more than thirty boxes, at least, on the way to the airport and while being there. "I can't believe it. Its been more than a _year _since then." She glanced at him and, noticing his bittersweet expression, touched his sleeve gently. He looked at her in surprise before hugging her tightly. "Aww, Hotaru-chan's worried about me? Yaaaaaaaaaay!" He squealed, before noticing the smile on her face. He looked up to where she was staring - and immediately was knocked off his feet in a flurry of silver chains and long, orange hair.

"RUUUUUUUUUUUUKA!" The assailant mumbled happily, and it took him a second to hug her back.

"Mikaaaaaaaaaan!" He said, feeling her name on his tongue for the first time in eight years.

"I missed you so, so, _sooooo_ much." She said, pulling him back up onto his feet. "You've... changed." She looked him up and down. Ruka's hair was a little bit longer, his bangs covering his eyebrows. He was dressed differently - a light blue sweater and khakis, with a brown cap. A true englishman. Mikan had completely changed, however. She let her long hair, which she had now dyed a dark orange, flow down her back. She was wearing a neon-orange half-sleeve shirt that cut across her shoulders and white jeans. Her bare shoulders and the holes in her jeans showed edges and corners of her many tattoos, which she didn't seem so self conscious about anymore. And, around her neck, on a silver chain, was an ace of spades.

"Nii-san," Hotaru said, embracing her brother.

"I see you're still obsessed with Pocky sticks," He muttered, before feeling a hard pinch on his back. He shut himself up. Natsume was taller than her now, and he seemed to be different as well. He still dressed like an American, with his skinny jeans and sweatshirt, but but he now smiled more openly. His hair came down to his jaw, and his eyes seemed to be as sharp as ever. Hotaru, in front of him, had cut her hair to her shoulders and was wearing a white skirt and a button-down blue top. All four of them had switched to being brighter than before, and they all seemed to love it.

"England," Mikan breathed, looking around the enormous airport. "So, are you gonna show us around, or what?" She asked, grinning.

"Yeah, and you'll have a lot of time for that." Ruka replied, leading them out of the terminal. "Since we couldn't find you two an apartment, the four of us will be living together for the time being." Mikan squealed and jumped onto Hotaru, who smiled. "Well, now then," Ruka continued, putting an arm around Natsume's shoulders, "Let's go have some fun."

Mikan turned in the bed she had slept in for the past three months she'd been in London. Ruka and Hotaru were in the room across from theirs, sleeping peacefully. Natsume was only a few feet away from her, on the other side of the bed.

She dreamt she was in the Ring. Standing in front of her was the figure of her dead mother. Mikan reached out for her, grabbing her shoulder. But when she pulled her hand back, she had the mutilated head of her sixth opponent in her hand. She hadn't learned how to make clean kills then. She let go and turned away, facing the strangled body of her thirty-second opponent, a girl two years younger than her. She opened her mouth to scream, and choked on a sea of blood. She yelled into the liquid.

"Mikan, Mikan!" She fought back as voices began to swirl all around her, getting louder and more urgent by the nanosecond. She struggled and squirmed. Until she opened her eyes. "Its me. Its just me, its just Natsume." He crushed her to his chest as she proceeded to sob. He held her tightly, sleep forgotten, as she cried late into the night.

She cried for her mom, for Ruka, for Hotaru and for Natsume. She cried for her mother, who had died before anyone else, and she cried for all the people she'd killed. She cried for everything she'd done, for everything she was about to do, and for all the hate and the suffering and the pain. But when had she become such a crybaby? Was it because of Natsume? With a sniff, she decided that it was completely his fault.

When she had quieted, but was still crying, he spoke to her. "Listen, Mikan, because I'm only going to say this once." His hold tightened around her as she tried to stop crying. "I _love_ you." She sucked in her breath. "I'm here for _you. _I'm not going _anywhere_. _Nothing_ is going to hurt you anymore. You don't have to do _anything_ by yourself anymore. I'm _here_ now. I'm here when you go to sleep. I'll be here while you're sleeping, and I'll be here when you wake up in the morning. I _swear_ to you, I'll be right here for you. Because _I love you_." He paused for a moment before sighing. "Got it?" She nodded into his shirt. He hugged her until she went to sleep, and as promised, he was there when she woke up.

"But," She said while changing after getting out of the shower, "You said 'I love you' twice. You lied..."

Natsume just rolled his eyes and pulled her into a kiss. He smiled at her, his whole face brightening. "But hey, you can forgive me, right?"

He leaned down for another kiss before Ruka ran in, dragging a sleepy Hotaru into the bathroom behind him. "OH MY GOD," He yelled excitedly, before bro-hugging Natsume. "HOTARU'S PREGNANT!" He squealed, and Mikan squealed, and Natsume gawked at Ruka and Hotaru, and Hotaru proceeded to fall asleep while standing.

**The Ringleader = Ruka**

**The Champion = Mikan**

**The Stranger = Natsume**

**The Sister = Hotaru**

**;D**

**Reviews!**

**I hope you all enjoyed my first one-shot...please review! It's for the TR contest, but I think I've had this story in mind for a while now...I hope you liked it!**

_**~animeoh~**_


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